


Élixir de Jeunesse

by xenolinguist



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Also Bizio is the sweetest boy, De-aged Fabrizio, Ermal has had a very very bizarre day and deserves an Award for it, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Mary Poppins is shaking at those babysitting skills, tho he doesn't like to share
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenolinguist/pseuds/xenolinguist
Summary: "Uhm.... B-Bizio?"The kid yawned and rubbed his eyes “Aò, is this your name, Mister?"  The voice has not reached either the depth or hoarseness it would be famous for one day, however that distinctive frown remained the same."N-no. It’s ..it’s yours!  You don’t know your own name?!"The boy mulled over it for a second before shrugging nonchalantly "No, but now I do.  Thanks Mister!"“You don’t have to call me-- I mean-- I’m Ermal, do you really not remember?”“Er-mal.”  The boy tried the new name experimentally on his tongue before smiling goofily “Sounds funny, I like it.”the story of how Ermal meets baby Bizio





	Élixir de Jeunesse

It had been precisely eighteen minutes since Ermal arrived at the crossroad across from the gelateria Fabrizio had suggested. Eighteen minutes of waiting for a man who told him “he’d be there in five minutes”. Truly why was Fabrizio Moro a singer if he could have been a scientist since he reinvented time measurement?  
Ermal sighed. Yes, his concert in Rome would be on the weekend and arriving a few days in advance had literally no purpose at all except of visiting a few friends…. said ‘friends’ being Fabrizio specifically. So being stood up was not the most thrilling thing. But fine, if Fabrizio didn’t care to see him, sure, okay. Ermal wasn’t offended. Or sad for that matter. Nope, he’d just spent a few days having fun with his bandmates and forget abo-

“Ermal! Ermal!” 

The man in question turned around to the sound of his name and was promptly wrapped in two strong arms. Arms that hadn’t wrapped around him in so long so the contact was even sweeter now. And if that was not already enough, owner of said arms gave him a sweet and apologetic smile.  
“I’m so sorry, the studio had called and I needed to talk a few things through and then the traffic got really bad and-” Fabrizio actually had to pause, being so out of breath from apparently running to Ermal that talking became difficult.

And suddenly Ermal forgot why he had ever been upset in the first place. 

“Woa, okay, slow down! It’s alright, as long as you are here at all, I’m good.” He gave him an honest smile that Fabrizio gladly reciprocated, before leading the way to the gelateria.  
“It’s really not a super well known place, but I’ve been going here for years, their ice cream is the best.” The Roman assured him and Ermal’s curiosity had indeed been peaked. Everybody knew the main sights of Rome if you’ve been here often enough, but not many had the privilege to get these inside tours like Ermal did.  
So when they sat down, one bowl with mint ice cream in front of him, Ermal had to agree, it tasted heavenly.  
“Chocolate?” He eyed the bowl in front of Fabrizio. “Don’t get me wrong, but isn’t it a bit….basic?”  
“Not when it tastes like this.”  
“That good, huh?”  
For a split second there was an interesting glint in Fabrizio’s eyes, before his sight wandered down to the bowl in front of him. And then a spoon full with the brown ice cream was held in front of Ermal’s face who blinked in surprise but Fabrizio’s expectant eyes wouldn’t leave him. So he opened his mouth slowly to taste it and immediately had to laugh even with his mouth full of ice cream.  
“What?” Fabrizio asked grinning himself.  
“Nothing” Ermal coughed out because how could he explain that Fabrizio feeding him sweets must really be a ridiculous sight to behold. Almost like some stupid teenagers on stupid dates trying to be cute and romantic. Almost. 

But Ermal had to admit the chocolate gelato was excellent which earned him a smug smile from Fabrizio. After Ermal managed to payed for them (“shut up, Fabrizio, let me pay already. You are giving me an insider tour here, that’s the least I can do”), they wandered down a few narrow streets and alleys, filled with the most bizarre little shops. One alley had stores selling books so old that Ermal wondered if maybe Dante himself wrote them, the next one was packed with clothes shops that had the most colourful silky clothes in store. As Ermal was feeling up that silk blouse in front of one shop wondering if it hadn’t been stolen from some Ottoman sultan’s private chambers, a snickering next to him caught his attention.  
“Hey, Erm. Look at that!”  
“Jesus Christ, what is _that?!”_

‘That’ being a frankly ugly doll like figure with a face carved from wood and hair that resembled some animal’s mane. 

“That looks like a voodoo doll. Where did you get that?”  
“I think it is one!” Fabrizio said excitingly. “It’s from the shop next door, they have all sorts of spiritual stuff. C’mon let’s check it out.”  
Indeed the shop was something else entire, starting with the fact that it was so dimly lit that Fabrizio had to take his sunglasses off.  
“Can you hold for sec- I just-” and suddenly the sunglasses were thrusted into Ermal’s hands as Fabrizio absolutely had to touch the weird voodoo dolls on the shelf.  
“You think they are working for real? Or just painted dolls?”  
“Why? Contemplating to give one to Anita?”  
“And have her play house with her dolls and suddenly you’re out there making out with random people?”  
“Oh, so I am the doll here?” And suddenly their conversation was given a certain edge, drifted into a certain playfulness. The smirk gracing Fabrizio’s wasn’t one of simple joy, it was a witty and intrigued one. One he’d often get when their conversations increased in tension.  
“Sometimes we gotta stop you from talking, y’know.”  
“And there’s no other way to shut me up?”  
“Oh well--” 

“Young man” An old woman with cane suddenly stepped out of the shadows.”I would suggest you to put that piece back where you found it if you do not want to deal with the powers you might unleash.” Ermal wasn’t sure on what to exactly focus first: the fact that he genuinely didn’t know where their cocky banter (he refused to call it flirting) would have lead if the shopkeeper didn’t interrupt or the thought that if she considered Fabrizio a ‘young man’.....how old is she exactly? 

“Sure, uhm sorry” Fabrizio bashfully put the doll back and with the sudden awkwardness in the room, it felt best to drift a part for a bit. Ermal roamed the shop, finding different jars with different furs of animals in them, herbs from all over the continent, bones and books on the occult. He picked one book and mindlessly turn the pages when he suddenly heard a sneeze. He looked up and almost dropped the book at the sight.  
Of course, Fabrizio had to spill some powder over himself right after the scary witch lady scolded them. Of fucking course.  
“What are you doing!?” Ermal whispered alerted.  
“Shit, it was on the top shelf and I just- I wanted to see what it was and the lid was loose and, fuck.” He quickly brushed all the powder off himself and hid the now empty jar in between the shelves.  
“Let’s bounce before Baba Yaga here returns from the shadow realm.” He grabbed his wrist and ran out out the shop. And didn’t running. They actually sprinted down the entire alley while Ermal still held his wrist until they reached a little park.  
It was quite pretty, not many people there but that was preferable to them anyway. They let themselves lay back on the green grass, just watching the blue sky. Fabrizio told him a few anecdotes of his youth that took place in this park before their conversation drifted to all sorts of topics. That has always been the way with them: they could talk about anything and nothing and it would still be intriguing and how two people could spend literal hours only talking without realising it was beyond Ermal, but he didn’t complain. 

At long last the sun has set and they reluctantly made their way back to Fabrizio’s house. At the door, it felt almost difficult to say goodbye.  
“I’m glad you wanted to spend the day with me, y’know. I’m not naive, I know you have other friends in Rome as well…”  
“Please, I have seen Antonello just last week. But you… I hadn’t seen you in a long while..I…” He was thankful the darkness hid his face so well, it would get hard to explain the red cheeks. “I … missed you.”  
“I missed you, too.” And it suddenly felt like a déjà-vu from this morning when two strong arms once more wrapped tightly around him, but the hug was nevertheless different. While the encounter in the morning had been fast and hectic, this hug was softer and longer. There was no rush, there were only the the two of them now.  
But nevertheless, they eventually had to part, if only to have inches separating them. Inches Ermal wished weren’t there, because instead of going inside, Fabrizio kept gazing at him expectantly that made his stomach flip upside down. And yet, he couldn’t force himself to look away.  
When the tension became almost unbearable, Fabrizio finally glanced towards the door behind him.  
“I should- I- y’know- have stuff to do and- and .. y’know… stuff”  
“Yeah, sure, of course. So.. uhm.. “  
“Uhm.. Goodnight Ermal. And, have fun at your concert, I know you’ll rock it”  
“Thanks! Thank you for the entire day actually...and goodnight, Fabri”

At long last Fabrizio disappeared behind the front door and Ermal finally made his way back to the hotel. With such a big concert happening soon, that should be on his mind but all that clouded his thoughts were a pair of chocolate eyes and plump lips that crooked so sweetly into a smile. He sighed, he should let it go. It was pointless, he knew it. Fabrizio only had a very natural friendly. That was it.  
And he would have continued to convince himself of that had he not felt a sharp object in his jacket. A sharp foreign object being Fabrizio’s sunglasses he had thrown at him today. 

Well, just because it was pointless to pursue Fabrizio doesn’t mean Ermal couldn’t visit him tomorrow. Just to give him his sunglasses back. That’s all. That’s what friends do.

* * *

To say Ermal was worried would be an understatement of the year. Not only has Fabrizio not answered any calls of his since this morning, but he wasn’t even online since last night if you are to believe WhatsApp. So there he was knocking and ringing his doorbell like a madman with absolutely no reply.  
This was definitely not normal, and the thought that it had only been hours since last night that Ermal saw him in flesh made his anxiety skyrocket.  
Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures.  
He searched around, under the doormat, behind the plant, on the window board until he flipped a few decorative rocks around the garden et voilà! A spare key! 

“Fabrizio?” He entered nervously the house but there was no sign of his friend, he slowly made his way around the living room, the kitchen, the garden and still nothing.  
He slowly approached the bedroom and prayed Fabri was just peacefully sleeping there and that is why he had not answered any calls. C’mon, please, maybe he was up all night and that’s why he couldn’t get up.  
His heart was hammering in his chest as he cautiously opened the door, not entirely ready to face whatever is behind it but having to check regardlessly. However, his worst apprehensions didn’t come true as he did indeed find someone sleeping in that bed. Someone…..who was definitely not Fabrizio. 

Instead of his ripped 6-feet hunk of a friend, there was only a very tiny, small creature slumbering in that large bed. It ...it was a kid? A kid of maybe barely 4 years with dark messy hair and dark skin, drowning in a way too large AC/DC shirt for him. 

As if it was the first time he saw a child in his entire life, Ermal couldn’t help but stare at the sleeping boy in front of him. It was simply surreal. His friend has never mentioned any nephews or any other relatives of this sort, on top of that Ermal doubt he’d ever let a kid so small alone at home. And with Fabrizio having disappeared from the face of the Earth and that boy in his bed, wearing his shirt, looking very very Fabrizio-ish….Ermal could intellectually conclude who that kid is ..but that’s not possible, right? It shouldn’t be possible?! Why was something deep down inside him so convinced of this insane theory when all logic spoke against it?

He took a step closer, but being so deep in thoughts he didn’t notice the trash bin he ran into. The heavy bin fell to the ground with a loud bang which startled the little boy awake.  
Sleepy brown eyes looked confused around until they met Ermal’s and dammit, he knew those eyes. Knew them too well. If he still had any doubts, they sure were gone now. 

Ermal cleared his throat unsure how to proceed.  
"Uhm.... B-Bizio?"  
The kid yawned and rubbed his eyes “Aò, is this your name, Mister?" The voice has not reached either the depth or hoarseness it would be famous for one day, however that distinctive frown remained the same. 

 

Ermal found himself lost for words for a second time within two minutes. 

"N-no. It’s ..it’s yours! You don’t know your own name?!"

The kid mulled over it for a second before shrugging nonchalantly "No, but now I do. Thanks Mister!"

Lightheadedness suddenly came over him. He massaged his temples, this was too bizarre. “You don’t have to call me-- I mean-- I’m _Ermal,_ do you really not remember?”  
“Er-mal.” The boy tried the new name experimentally on his tongue before smiling goofily “Sounds funny, I like it.”  
_‘Oh my God, he really doesn’t.’_

* * *

Dior. Armani. Gucci. Only the name a few of the stores that found their place on that busy shopping street in the center of Rome. Marco sighed, all he wanted was to get his girlfriend a little something from the capital while he still had free time but the stores were obviously more targeting filthy rich tourists rather than poor, good hearted guitarists. Maybe he would have still time to go to a mall but those plans were quickly disbanded when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Erm, it’s just midday, we don’t have rehears-"  
"MARCO COME TO FABRIZIO'S HOUSE PRONTO I DON'T THINK I CAN HANDLE THAT ALONE"  
"W-What!? WHY? WHAT'S HAPPENING???"  
"JUST COME OVER BUT DON’T TELL ANYONE OKAY?"

Before any more inquiries could be made, the connection was cut and Marco was left there speechless. As he was told, Marco took a cap to Fabrizio's house and during the long (and expensive, this better be worth it Ermal) drive all sorts of horror scenarios came to his mind. What would await him? Some accident? Injury? God forbid, death?? It must be something serious however, after all, his friend sounded properly spooked on the phone. Arriving at his destination didn’t set his mind at ease at all yet he bravely approached the front door to find it already open. Burglary? Or even worse? Shaking these thoughts away, Marco stepped inside the house and cautiously took a few steps in to find …..Ermal ..chasing a laughing kid through the house? A kid in an XXL band shirt that basically looked like a dress on him.  
"No, no, no, no! Bizio, don’t run around with the fork in your hand, dammit you'll hurt yourself!"  
Ignoring the concerned voice, the kid just kept on laughing happily with said fatal fork waving around in his tiny hand until he spotted Marco in the doorway and stopped in his tracks curiously.  
"Hello Mister!"  
"Uhm...."  
"HA! GOTCHA!" Ermal grabbed the distracted kid off the floor who squealed in turn.  
With the evil fork recaptured, Ermal finally noticed his guitarist gaping at the scene that unfold itself in front of him.  
"Oh, uhm, hi Marco."  
His friend could only blink until his eyes wandered down to the kid Ermal was holding "..... _'Bizio'?"_

* * *

First of all, Marco needed a beer or two circulating in his bloodstream before he could possibly stomach what Ermal was telling him.  
"And...you're sure that’s Fabrizio? Couldn’t it be, I don’t know, some sort of nephew of his?" He felt a headache coming on, he should probably grab a third bottle.  
"Marco, look at him. That's not mere family resemblance, that's actually him. Look at that hair, that birds nest isn't genetically transmittable."  
They glanced at the boy sitting next to them in the kitchen who was eating sliced pieces of fruits that Ermal had been preparing for him earlier before he bounced with the fork. A sweet grin on his chubby face, the kindest brown eyes and a dark mess of hair crowning him. All things considered, he did really look like a mini Fabrizio, Marco had to admit.  
“And on top of that, I found him completely alone in Fabrizio’s house. Fabri would never let a small kid unsupervised like that, not in a hundred years.” That absolute conviction in Ermal’s voice didn’t leave any room for disagreements. Not that Marco would have ever second guessed Fabrizio’s parenting abilities in the first place ~~especially not if it unleashes the Wrath of Ermal upon him~~ so he just nodded.  
“Alright. Let’s- Let’s assume I’d believe… whatever this is.. to be true. The question remains, how did this even happen? Weren’t you with him yesterday? Wasn’t he normal back then?”  
“Of course he was! Nothing special happened yesterday anyway! We were just taking a walk through the district, talking about the concert, about the kids, eating gelato, going through some junk shops Fabri found funny..” Ermal snorted amused at the memory and unbeknownst to him, a soft smile graced his face as well which however didn’t last too long.  
“Who even goes to junk shops for their dates anyway?”  
“Hey, it was **_not_** a date!” A sharp pain went through Marco’s leg under the table, no doubt Ermal’s way to emphasise his point. “And the shops weren’t that scrappy. We had a good laugh at them, okay? Like that one was packed with all sorts of weird aesotherical voodoo bullsh- Oh my God.” Suddenly he slapped his hand over his mouth, realisation hitting him like a truck.  
“What? What??”  
“Oh my Goood.” The singer groaned as he ran his hands over his face. “Yesterday Fabrizio accidentally got in touch with some powder at that shop. Like, the lid was loose and when he reached for it, the power- it fell on top of him and- oh God, that must be it. That’s what must have caused it.”  
The terrible certainty set in at last, there was no doubt about it now. Oh damn this clumsy Fabrizio! Of course out of all supernatural powders he had to crash into the anti-aging section. Well, at least he can’t complain about grey hairs now, Ermal mused before Marco’s voice tore him out of his thoughts. 

"And what now?"  
“I don’t know, I guess we'll have to go to the shop and try to set things straight."  
"Yeah that's a good id-" 

 

RING. RING. 

 

Both men haltered their conversation and turned their heads in the direction of the front door. Marco frowned confused to which Ermal could only shrug. Fabrizio hadn’t mentioned any visit for the next day, which only made him curious who it might be. Ermal motioned to Marco to keep an eye on the little boy next to them while he went to check the door. Cautiously, Ermal peeked through the peephole to see who the intruder was and he had to swallow. _Shit!_ No no non no, that was a very bad timing but he just couldn't not answer the door either. 

The door finally opened albeit only a few inches to let one curly haired man’s head peek out. 

"Oh finally, and I already thought you weren't home Fa- Ermal?!"  
He couldn’t blame the woman in front of him for her confused expression and surprised tone, after all she expected someone entirely else. Therefore Ermal tried his best to play it cool, be smooth. He got this.

"Heeeey Giada! Hey Lib, hey Anita. Nice..... seeing you guys around here, huh."  
Okay, he maybe dont got this if the forced smile and the terribly fake laugh of his are any indication. Don’t get him wrong, he already had a de-aged rocker baby to look after, _this_ visit had not been planned!  
"Uhm, not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Where's Fabrizio? He was to take the kids today."  
  
Oh was he? Great. Fantastic. Splendid.

"Oh yeah, uhm, you see, I have a concert here on the weekend and thought of visiting Fabri.. and y’know he... he got a call from- from the studio. So he urgently had to rush to the city..but- but he said I could watch them until he returns."  
He was thanking all Gods above for his musical talent because he sure as hell would go bankrupt as an actor. And when Giada rolled her eyes, Ermal felt the panic rise inside him even more.  
"God, why didn't he say anything earlier, I could have just dropped them off later. Geez, this Fabrizio..." She shook her head displeased, and look at that, the day has finally come when Fabrizio’s chaotic nature would come in handy.  
"Hehe, yeah, yeah, you know him...."  
At long last, Giada left, even if she was still a bit disappointed in Fabrizio for apparently dragging Ermal into babysitting. He could imagine there to be another conversation between the two of them taking place in near future, but that was a problem for another day.  
Now he had more pressing matters to care about, so Ermal brought the kids to the kitchen where he had to watch in horror how Bizio was bombarding poor Marco with banana pieces.  
"Who's that?" Libero asked as they watched the little boy climbed down from his seat to observe the newcomers.  
"Oh that’s...that’s... Marco's nephew."  
"My _what_ now?!"  
Instantly Ermal threw him a sharp glaze that practically screamed ’shut up, Marco!!’

Anita, on the other hand, gasped and ran straight towards the boy. Libero being a bit older than her often did not want to play with her but this boy seemed to be the right age to be a playmate, also he seemed nice.  
"Hello, I'm Anita! What's your name?" She didn't even wait for the answer before hugging him and damn Ermal had to admit, seeing them like this, they almost looked like a set of twins. Same button nose, same plump lips, same chocolate eyes.

"I'm Bizio, that's what Ermal calls me"  
"'that's what Ermal calls you? What does that mean?" Lib seemed justifyingly confused. God, Fabri had been right, Libero really was a smart kid. Ermal massaged his temples sighing. 

"He's little and, uhm, little kids are ..uh...confused at times." Nice safe, Meta. At least Libero seemed to buy it for the moment and approached the younger boy. And as the three of them started to mingle Ermal took a breath.  
Okay, let’s take is slow. Now they had three kids to watch. No problemo. Not at all. It rarely happened but when he watched after his nieces, he did well so he should be able to handle this situation as well, also he had Marco, his best most loyal friend who would help him and who- "WAIT KIDS YOU CANNOT PLAY FOOTBALL IN THE HOUSE! DAMMIT MARCO WHY DONT U PAY ATTENTION?"

"Huh?” The guitarist’s eyes unglued from his phone screen at last “Oh sorry, I was googling de-aging powders. So there's apparently this medieval legend in France that if you mix certain herb-"

"Thank you, Wikipedia, those French herbs won’t help us with child education!" The curly haired man groaned. So much of his reliable support from Marco. Looks like Ermal might really be the only adult figure in this mess after all, and as such he tried to bring order by snatching the ball from the kids who were all groaning in unison.

"C’mon Ermal please, the ball isn't even dirty." Lib argued.  
"Well, it isn't clean either. Also you almost smashed the TV and your father wouldn’t be pleased about it"  
"Pleeeeeeeease, Ermaaaaal" Anita pouted and tugged on his leg "Papa isn't here anyway."  
_‘Well, he might be closer than you think’_  
Three pairs of pleading brown eyes gazed at him and God, how Fabrizio denied his kids _anything_ was a mystery to Ermal.  
"Ok, listen, go into the garden to play and I'll make lunch and if you behave, we'll have some gelato too" Regardless of generation, origin, and age, ice cream had always proved itself to be the most efficient way to reach a compromise. 

"GELATO" The kids squealed, proving his theory to be true, and immediately moved their game outside where they were kicking the ball left and right. However, after a while, Anita was rather bored and turned to her doll house in the corner of the garden while the boys still enjoyed their match. Libero loved his sister, but sometimes he did wish for a brother whom he could play football with. It was funny, but Libero immediately got along with Bizio. He felt an immediate affection for the boy despite not even knowing him, but there was just something about Bizio that made Libero feel comfortable around him. The only thing was, Bizio seemed to be quite clumsy. Well, that or the fact that his shirt was just too long and he kept stepping on it causing him to land face down in the grass. Out of pity, Libero slowed down and helped the younger boy up, who stared at him in awe.  
  
"You play so good! I wish I could play like you"  
Libero giggled. He wasn’t really used to people who weren’t his parents complimenting him like this.  
"Thanks! Sometimes I play in a club, oh, and one time when Ermal was playing a match on TV, my papa brought me along to the stadium where I even walked with Totti!"  
“Ermal played in a stadium?” How it was exactly that piece of information that made the little boy’s eyes wide and not the fact that he walked with _Totti_ , Libero didn’t understand, but he nodded nevertheless.  
“And your papa brought you there to watch him? He sounds cool."  
“Yeah, he sometimes even plays with me. But not that often." He mindlessly kicked the ball against the wall of the house, seeing it bounce back to him before kicking it again.  
"Huh, why not? Is he bad like me?"  
"No, he just... he is working a lot. So he doesn't have time. He always says he wants us to play more often but he never actually comes through with that." Memories came back to Libero’s mind. Memories of promises, postponements, excuses and as always apologies. However what the ten year old failed to remember was the heartbreak in his father’s voice when he tells him he can’t make it, the guilt in his eyes when he watches his son defeated face and the desperate desire in his heart to be better than that.  
Distracted by those thoughts, Libero didn’t notice the ball slipping past his feet but thankfully it didn’t get too far with Bizio halting it. "Oh…” the four year old kicked the ball back to him. “Your papa sounds like a dummy."  
Libero laughed out loud at that, it was good to smile again. "He sometime is, but he's still cool."  
  
"Liberooooooo" the boys were torn from their conversation by the sound of Anita who was occupied at her doll house. Libero rolled his eyes but made his way towards his sister nevertheless, Bizio following closely. While the boys had been busy with their match, Anita had set up all her dolls outside and prepared a little make-up box.  
"Lib, put make-up on me." She demanded much to her brother’s annoyance.  
"What? No! Why?! I told you I don't want to play with make-up, that’s for girls."  
"I need you to put it on me! Look, it’s Lara's birthday and I already made all her friends pretty and now I have to be pretty too.”  
Birthday kid of the day, Lara, who was a Barbie doll with chopped brown hair in a blue dress, was covered in lipstick and eyeshadow. Lara's "friends" and guests of this important birthday party didn't look any different. Only host of the evening, Anita still needed to be dressed for the occasion. 

"I can help you!" Bizio provided promptly, much to both Anita and Libero’s relief. Bizio didn't understand however why Libero was so against Anita’s suggestion. Make-up looked like drawing and drawing was fun!  
"YEY!" Immediately Anita hugged the boy in gratitude. "See, Libero! Bizio is _nice,_ not like you!" she stuck her tongue out at her brother who just rolled his eyes and went to kick the football alone for a bit.

Being left alone, Anita took Bizio’s hand and sat him down next to the make-up box. "Ok so this is lipstick, you put it on the lips. And that’s the eye thingy you put on the eyes but not into them, that hurts! And this is some pink stuff you put on your cheeks. Understood?" Confidently Anita finished her precise and professional 101 Make-up Course and Bizio, who had been attentively listening to her, nodded. His little chummy fingers tapped into the blue-ish eyeshadow (it was nice, it glittered!!) before smearing it over Anita's eyelid...and eyebrow. He tried his best. 

"How do you know all this stuff?"  
"I watch my mamma she wears it everyday."  
"Wowww” Anita’s mamma must be a very pretty lady. “Do you wear it everyday too?”  
"Nooo, mamma won’t let me! So mean, she says I can only wear my make-up and only sometimes but she has prettier stuff like dark lipstick and that funny ink you put on the eyes but that’s for grown ups, she says” the little girl crossed her arms, miffed at that horrible injustice she’s been subjected to. But thankfully, she fell on sympathetic ears with Bizio.  
"This is stupid! You should wear all the make-up that you want!" By now he had finished the eyes and now moved on to the cheeks. Experimentally he hit the palm of his hand into the rouge box and started smearing it onto her face, his little tongue unconsciously sticking out during this very difficult process.  
"Right!! I said that too and not even papa will let me! He said I’m too small and I should wait."  
"Your papa is wrong too, make-up is nice for everyone."  
Now he took the pink-ish lipstick and tried to circle ..approximately around her mouth. After all, he did hit the mark..but also might have drawn a full centimeter around her lips as well. Nevertheless, he felt satisfied with his new work of art and gave her a big bright smile.  
"I'm done! You look so pretty!!"  
Anita rummaged around her make-up box until she fished out a little mirror and squealed at the sight "Yes !! Thank you, Bizio!!" She kept admiring her new look in the mirror until the voice next to her drew her attention away.  
"Anita?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Can you put make-up on me too?"

  


If she wasn’t already grinning, she sure would have started now.

* * *

Ten minutes later when Ermal called for dinner, one sweaty ten year old, and two toddlers with their faces covered in all the colours of the rainbow. Ermal couldn’t remember the last time he saw something so adorable so naturally photos were taken. He reckoned Fabrizio wouldn’t be as excited about the make over as his younger self and oh, that’s gonna be some phenomenal blackmail material for when (if?) Fabrizio is back to normal. 

In the meanwhile, Ermal had sent Marco out to investigate the voodoo shop, see how to reverse this hot mess, and also get the gelato while Ermal plundered Fabrizio’s kitchen on the quest to find something edible. In the end, a bit of pasta saved the day and the four of them started eating as Bizio's eyes widened.  
"You like it?" Ermal smiled, he made the pasta he knew Fabrizio was awfully fond of and apparently not even age could change that as the boy nodded eagerly.  
"Hmmm! Can I have more?"  
"You didn't even finish the portion in front of you, Bizio." Ermal had to giggle and ruffled the boy’s hair who bashfully looked down on himself. And indeed, once the plate was empty and his belly full, the young boy didn’t ask for more, but instead listened to the conversation that was happening at the table.  
It has been a good while since Ermal had seen the kids so there was much to catch up to. Anita was telling him eagerly about the new girl in her class who moved here last week from Egypt and didn’t speak any Italian and was therefore shy and withdrawn.  
“But Ermal, then the other day she started pointing at me and y’know why, Ermal?”  
“No, tell me!” The curly haired man encouraged the little Miss as he was picking up the empty plates.  
“Because she saw my lunch box and you know what lunch box I have? It’s a Frozen lunch box and you know what else? She had the same one! So we sat together and ate lunch. Oh, and her name is Nour!”  
And maybe he’s getting sentimental with age, but there was just something that warmed Ermal’s heart about the fact that despite the language and the cultural barriers two little girls still managed to connected in a genuine way. It gave him a bit of hope for the adults in this country as well.  
“It’s really nice of you that you are becoming friends, Anita. I wish someone would have been so open and friendly to me when I still didn’t speak Italian that well.”  
“But you speak italian well, Ermal, you’re silly.” Bizio mumbled as intelligibly as possible considering he had the straw of his Capri Sun in his mouth.  
“I- yes, _now_ I do, but when I came to Italy many years ago, I only spoke Albanian which is very different.”  
A tiny chubby face nodded along, as if to signalise him that yes, he understood, but the big brown eyes that frowned at him told a different story. Incredible that in forty years, he’d still have that same expression when he had no clue what was going on.  
“Would you like me to say something in Albanian?”  
“Can you say something??”  
“Mund t'ju them gjithçka që ju dëshironi.”  
The fact that the Capri Sun didn’t just land on the floor was astonishing considering how quickly he let go of that straw and formed a perfect O with his little mouth.  
He blinked a few times at the adult in front of him, mesmerized at what must have been the first time little Bizio heard a foreign language. He turned slowly to Anita and Libero as if to see if they also heard what he just heard before he started giggling.  
“You talk soo funny”  
“Thashë se shqipja është shumë e ndryshme.”  
That earned him once more excited laugher and big eyes. Ah, yes, good to know that his translation skills would have always been appreciated. 

They continued their little convo, Libero retelling him of how they and their mother went to this modern museum the other day, what crazy exhibits they had there, with Anita interrupting at times calling them ugly, which Libero vehemently denied.  
“They were cool!”  
“They were ugly”  
“No, they were cool!”  
“You know, kids, sometimes things can be both ugly _and_ cool.” Ermal tried to cool the situation down and despite the little dispute, Ermal had to say, there was something nice to be chatting with them about everyday life, school, hobbies. Even if he didn’t dare to say it out loud, but some small part back in his mind was telling him that this was a small taste of what a family life would feel like.  
He had no right to think like this; these were Fabrizio’s kids after all, Fabrizio’s family, not his. Fabrizio who loved spending time with Ermal but who wouldn’t want him in _that_ way. Never in that way. Ermal wasn’t part of Fabrizio’s family.  
And Ermal would have continued to silently drown in sorrows he shouldn’t have in the first place if it hadn’t been for the ringing of his phone.  
"Hi Andrea. ..... Don’t worry Marco is with me at Fabrizio's.... Yeah, listen, it’s just- we have to watch the kids, alright? Fabrizio is currently, uhm, occupied, that’s why….. Don't worry your pretty little head, Vigentini, we'll be back until the rehearsals, okay? Ciao."

He ended his phone call to see Bizio staring at him, a question written in his face.  
"What are you rehearsing? A play?"  
"No, he's a singer like papa, don't you know?" Anita sounded almost offended at his ignorance "He sings really nice and does tours and makes songs, like papa does. One time he and papa made a song in my bedroom."  
Now Bizio seemed even more mesmerised. "Wooow, really? You make songs? By yourself?"  
It was cute how amazed he was at things he would later be able to master himself.  
"Yes, I do. Sometimes I get help from others, like from Anita and Libero's papa, but yes, I often write alone."  
"Can you play stuff too?"  
"Can I-? Oh, you mean if I can play an instrument? Yeah, I play the piano and the guitar."  
"Woow, Ermal, you are the coolest adult I know"  
He sounded so sincere in his statement that Ermal almost felt bad for thinking that he’s one out of two adults that Bizio currently knew and Marco wasn’t that big of a competition, but nevertheless thanked the boy. 

After the table was cleaned off, juices drunk and hands washed, Libero asked if Bizio wanted to go to his room to play with his spiderman action figures and Anita wanted to drag him outside to be part of Lara's birthday party but the younger boy declined both and instead came running to Ermal.  
"Can you play something? I wanna hear you play!"  
"I...uhm.. I guess I can, sure. After all, you- I mean, Libero and Anita's papa does have a piano at home." Ermal lead the way to Fabrizio's music room, the toddler and now Anita too, coming along. Libero not being fond of music prefered to go to his room instead which made Bizio quite sad. Why didn't Libero like music? Music is so nice!

But that thought was promptly forgotten once he entered the studio. Gasping he ran straight to the piano.  
"It’s sooooo big!"  
"No, Bizio, you're just so small" Ermal snickered and approached the instrument but then stopped in his tracks. There was a picture on top of the piano. A picture of him and Fabrizio from their NMAFN promotion. And suddenly the warmest feeling spread inside Ermal's chest. He didn't know Fabrizio had a picture of them in his house, let alone on his piano. A place, where he would always have the picture in front of his eyes, every time he sat down here. Fabrizio had once told him Ermal had given him inspiration again, but frankly, the younger man didn’t think he meant it quite that literally. Ermal took the picture into his hands and sat down at the piano bench, a sentimental smile gracing his face. When Fabrizio was composing new music and didn’t know how to continue, was he looking up at their picture and found some of that inspiration again? What songs would Ermal inspire him to write? Critical reckonings of the current politics? Philosophical musings about the hardships of life? Appeals to be your unapologetic self? Or were they tunes of a softer kind perhaps? Tender words wrapped in gentle melodies that spoke of heart’s silent desire? Of moments so fleeting and feelings so intimate that they would only leave room for only one other person to fully understand them? Or was Ermal’s fantasy running wild now?

Whatever way Fabrizio regarded him as, be it platonic or perhaps even something else entirely, Ermal was grateful to be part of his life. Who would have thought that one simple collaboration could lead to such a friendship, such a connection between two people. He certainly hadn't expected it but he wouldn't change it for anything in this world.

"-maaal? Ermaaaal!!" he was torn out of his thoughts by a tugging on his sleeve and a quiet displeased face staring at him.  
"You said you would play for me but you are just looking at the photo! Who is this even?!" The grumpy toddler stood on his toes trying to catch a better look at the person who so selfishly captured all of his Ermal’s attention. The man on the photo didn’t even look nice, he was so grumpy but he still made Ermal smile like that?! Bizio didn’t understand how, but he didn’t like it. 

"That’s my papa!! He and Ermal are friends and friends take pictures together!" Anita took a seat to Ermal’s right side on the bench as she informed the younger boy, but that answer didn’t seem to please him.  
“But friends don't leave their friends alone and he is not here right now so he is not a very good friend! I’m gonna be your new friend instead, Ermal!" The boy concluded confidently, proud to have found the perfect solution to this ‘problem’ before and sitting down on Ermal’s left side of bench.  
"Why thank you very much, but don't worry, Fabrizio is a very very good friend. He might not be ...present now, but he is still very nice and caring and always there when I need him. I can guarantee you that." He had to admit, it was cute if not a bit funny to have a four year old protect you from ‘bad friends’, but Ermal reckoned protectiveness was just written into Fabrizio’s DNA as it seemed.  
"Hmm..." Bizio mumbled unconvinced so Ermal decided to lift the mood and finally caved in and gave him a little concert. He started off with _Io mi innamoro ancora_ , knowing the fast beat would please the kids and soon enough the two of them were wiggling and humming along. Then followed a few children songs before Anita tugged on his sleeve. "Ermal, do you know that papa wrote a song for me?"  
"Anita, honey, all of Italy knows that." Ermal still crushed him in Sanremo 2017, sorry Anita.  
"Great!! Can you play it?"

Oh. Ermal has never sung Fabrizio's songs out loud in front of people, even if they were children. Not that he didn’t in private because honestly, only a uncultured swine wouldn't sing along to Fabrizio Moro's hits. But he'd give it a try. For Anita.  
And so he began singing. He couldn't bring out the emotion for _Portami Via_ like Fabrizio did but he didn't pretend he could from the beginning, yet he thought he did well. It felt funny, singing Fabrizio's songs. He wondered how Fabrizio would sing Ermal’s songs. Maybe that's something for another collaboration.  
"See, isn't it cool that I have my own song, Bizio?" Anita apparently loved to brag about it but the boy didn’t even listen to her as he stared at Ermal in awe.  
"I wanna sing like you when I grow up!"

_'Oh but you won't, dear Bizio, you will sing even better than me'_

The rest of the time they spent singing more of Ermal’s songs and even a few of Fabrizio's. Surprisingly, Bizio seemed fonder of Ermal's repertoire than his own. Ermal would have a laugh about that later on. At one point, Anita decided she was bored and would rather draw something now so she was off to her room but Bizio apparently was fine sitting there next to Ermal.  
"Bizio, don't you want to join her? Maybe you can draw something nice?"  
“You want me to draw something for you??" The boy inquired suddenly very interested in the idea of art.  
"Uhm, if you want to--”  
"Yes, I want to!"  
Ermal didn’t strictly mean drawing something _for_ him but the toddler ran already off to join Anita, so let it be that way. Fabrizio was apparently even more confusing as a kid than his adult self but at least he was occupied.  
That was when Marco called.  
"That gelato is taking its sweet time, Marco."  
"Very funny. Ok listen, the lady at the shop was very angry that you guys 'played with forces you don’t understand’ and also that you messed with her shop, but she took pity gave me a powder that should reverse the effects. All Fabrizio needs to do is ingest it in some way."  
"Okay, that’s- that’s good, that’s relieving.” Ermal closed his eyes for a moment and sighed out deeply. “I hope it does work, otherwise I really don't know what to do."  
"Why Ermal, if you are ever sick of the music business you could try it as a kindergarten teacher. You now have the experience at least."  
The singer snorted "Shut up, just get that gelato and come back."  
"Whatever you say, Mary Poppins!"  
"I said, shut up!" Ermal bursted out laughing before hanging up. It felt good to have that banter and that glimpse of normalcy in this bizarre situation, he needed that bit of good humour. As he laughed he didn't notice Bizio peeking through the door, a wary look on his face.

"Who were you talking to?"  
Still smiling Ermal huffed amused "Just a friend, nothing important."  
"A friend? ….Anita's papa?" The question was asked so tentatively yet with so much disdain that Ermal was taken aback for a moment. The fact that Bizio apparently disliked his older self so much without any reason was beyond hilarious and strange to Ermal. Obviously, little children often weren’t the epitome of logic but it made Ermal still wonder, what awful thing did Bizio see in Fabrizio?  
"No, no, it’s Marco from earlier. He's bringing over gelato soon. But did you need anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"  
"No, I’m- I- " Now Ermal noticed that the boy held something in his hands behind his back. He waved for him to step closer and the boy did so very shyly.  
“Hereforyou” Bizio blurred out hastily, eyes to the ground as he stretched out his little hand holding a sheet of paper.  
Ermal took the paper and had to give it look at what he was seeing.  
It was ridiculously long stick figure with a wonky smile and countless loops drawn on the head. Curls?  
The “torso” was covered in a lot of colourful wildly drawn lines. So, his blouse then? Maybe?  
Of course a pointy nose as long has half his arm graced the face.  
And for the crowning end, multiple shaky hearts in many different colours decorated the bottom part of the sheet. Oh wait, what?  
Ermal looked up to see the boy still avoiding his eyes with flushed cheeks mindlessly playing with his own finger. “This is you I hope you like it.” 

_Oh._  
Now he understood. 

Bizio had a little crush on him. 

Oh my God.

This was so cute and so strange at the same time. He couldn’t make adult Fabrizio fall for him in all those months they've known each other, but baby Bizio was whipped only after a few hours? Fate really was flipping him off here, wasn't she?  
“Why, yes, of course I like it! Thank you very much, Bizio! Once I come home, I’ll put it on the wall.”  
“Really??” The boy looked up surprised.  
“Sure!” Ermal smiled at him and got a toothy smile in return. 

Suddenly they heard the doorbell ring and Ermal was relieved, that must be Marco. Sure enough the gelato and the powder had been brought into the kitchen. Ermal put a bit of it into Bizio’s ice cream under Marco’s nervous eyes.  
“You think it’s gonna work?”  
“I don’t know, Marco, I sure hope it will because I have no fucking idea how to explain to the world that Fabrizio Moro went MIA because he can’t even write his own name and needs help on the loo.” He tried to mask it but Ermal was genuinely unnerved by this. If Bizio were to remain in this state, Ermal wouldn’t only lose his friend and Italy wouldn’t only lose one of its’ best artists, but most importantly Libero and Anita would lose their father. He tried to shake the anxiety off as he mixed the powder into the chocolate ice cream. There was no use of worrying, the only way was to try.

He handed the ice cream to the kids and watched as they ate it unsuspectedly. A part from the time Bizio offered Ermal a bit of his chocolate ice cream, bless his heart, he ate everything up without troubles. 

Soon the sun fell and evening was approaching when Libero came up to him.  
“Shouldn't Papa come home soon?”  
It’s been a few hours and Fabrizio’s absence was indeed getting unusual.  
“He’s sorry but he’ll have to be out for some more time, so you’ll have to do with me putting you to bed, kids.” 

That explanation apparently was good enough for the kids so once Libero and Anita were tucked in, Ermal put Bizio into his own adult bed, now too huge for the little guy. It needed some time to convinced the toddler that no, Ermal couldn't sleep there with him, Bizio could sleep alone.  
“But I don’t wanna sleep aloooone! I want you to stay!”  
A full blown tantrum was dangerously close if the fidgeting of his little legs under the blanket and crossed arms were any indication. This was indeed a very delicate situation that could go disastrously wrong but thankfully Ermal knew how to play his cards right.  
“But Bizio, all big boys sleep alone. Like Libero and Anita’s papa! He always sleeps alone too and he’s very cool because of that.”  
A split second passed were Ermal was truly curious if the boy would take the bait and indeed a moment later, he pulled the blanket over his shoulders and promptly turned away from Ermal.  
“Uhm, Bizio…?”  
“....’m a big boy too...” mumbled the dark bird nest under the blankets angrily. Ermal had a hard time to refrain from laughing and simply wished him a good night before going downstairs.  
Ermal set up a few blankets and pillows on the couch for himself. Marco was send back to the hotel to tell the rest of the band that Ermal is fine and that he’d stay at Fabrizio’s, without mentioning any details of course ..which only made his friends’ speculation go wild why Ermal was spending the night there. He sighed, that was something he’d have to worry about later.  
Now his mind was occupied by the day’s events, if he could have prevented it, what if Fabrizio changed back, what if not…. God, and had the day not been as exhausting as it was, those thoughts sure did tire him out until he finally drifted off to sleep.

  


* * *

* * *

  


The first thing he registered was that his head was _killing_ him. The second thing was that he felt awfully nauseous, and the third was that he didn't wear any pants. That third realisation might have surprised him so much that he had fallen out of the bed onto the hard floor with a loud bang. This wasn't like Fabrizio’s usual mornings. He groaned as he propped himself up and ran a hand over his face when he felt a very strange substance on his lips...and eyelids? Was he wearing makeup?

So far nothing had made even the slightest sense and Fabrizio really needed 1) some damn coffee 2) some answers and 3) a good smoke.  
What has even happened yesterday? He had no recollection at all, but he sure as hell didn’t remember having drunk anything either?  
Fabrizio finally got up, took some boxers out of the drawers and was about to go downstairs when his bedroom door opened and a very concerned Ermal rushed in “Bizio? Are you okay? I heard a sound and- “

And that’s when their heads crashed together. 

Well, now Ermal was apparently also in his house at some unholy early hour in the morning but frankly that was the least bizarre thing so far. However, the crash didn't help his already aching head so Fabri just sat back into the bed, head in his hands. 

“F-Fabri…”  
Fabrizio reluctantly looked up and opened his eyes again to see Ermal staring at him as if he had grown a second head.  
“Yes, Ermal?”  
“Fabrizio, it’s- it’s you- you really… you’re back to normal!” In the heat of the moment Ermal threw himself on Fabrizio in a tight embrace with so much force that the older man fell back on the bed, his friend on top of him.  
Maybe this morning wasn’t all that bad after all, Fabrizio mused for a second. 

...until Ermal crawled off him and started to explain yesterday’s events or rather tell him a tale so incredulous that Fabrizio almost refused to even consider the possibility of realness. If anything, he’d seriously start questioning Ermal’s sanity by now if it weren’t for the fact that the circumstances he woke up to weren’t exactly normal. That wasn’t a simple hangover, the symptomes were too strong, the absolute lack of memory, for God’s sake the make-up! Even if he’d love to write it off as bullshit, deep down the terrible realisation hit him that it must be true.

“And you aren’t fucking with me here, Erm?”  
“For the thousandth time, _no_, I am dead serious. May I add, it’s your own fault for sniffing that damn powder in the first place though.”  
“Fuck, the powder”  
“Yeah.”  
Silence fell between them as Fabrizio massaged his temples, once more running all that he had been told right now through his mind.  
“Well, thank you for uhm...taking care of me I guess? This sounds very weird but I guess that’s what you did. I know three kids must have been hard to look after.”  
“Nah, it’s alright. Libero is a smart kid, he wasn't much trouble. Anita is energetic but you can deal with her and Bizio...well, Bizio was adorable.” Ermal grinned widely as he traced his finger over Fabrizio’s pink lips.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you took pictures of me with the make-up.”  
“I absolutely took pictures.”  
“Thank you, Ermal, I knew I couldn’t trust you.”  
“Hey, Bizio didn’t seem to mind the make-up. In fact, Bizio was a very interesting kid.”  
“Y’know you don’t have to refer to me in third person, y’know that was still _me_ and not another human altogether?”  
“Well, I wouldn't be too sure of that. There were a few differences after all. Funnily enough, Bizio was crushing on me.”  
“Oh….did...did he now?” At that Fabrizio suddenly sat up straighter, suddenly very welcoming the distinction between the two of them.  
“Yeah, he was drawing me with lots of hearts and said he wanted to sing like me when he grew up.”  
Fabrizio avoided his eyes swallowing hard “Oh.. that’s..that’s… “  
“He was also ridiculously jealous of one Fabrizio Moro who I am so fond of. So me being such good friends with Fabrizio was something Bizio apparently reaaally disliked.” Ermal snickered but while the irony didn’t pass unnoticed by the older man, the humour in the situation apparently did. 

“Can’t blame him. Who would like a guy who monopolises all your attention?” The Roman mumbled, very much reminding Ermal of a little angry toddler of yesterday. 

“Sounds almost like Fabrizio and Bizio might be more similar than initially thought, huh?” 

“I think we are when it comes to you.” That’s when Ermal’s smirk vanished. He had been joking. He was just telling Fabri that story because it’s cute and funny and frankly, because it’s absolutely not something Fabri would ever consider normally but right now Fabrizio almost sounded serious, he almost sounded like…. 

“Maybe ...Bizio isn’t the only one with a crush on you.” Fabrizio was definitely blushing now but he figured as weird as everything else had been in the past 24 hrs, it might not be the worst timing to confess. After all, his admission would certainly not be the worst thing to happen.  
“I- God, I hope Bizio isn’t the only one with a crush on me” Ermal whispered almost absent mindedly and that little bit of awe in his voice might have given Fabrizio the some sort of push he needed because the next thing he knew was that their lips crashed into each other. 

 

A while later, after having dressed properly and washed the make-up off Fabrizio’s face (“you really are a party pooper, old man” “shut up, Ermal”), they headed downstairs to make some breakfast for the kids who woke up a bit later and were eagerly telling their father about the fun day they had with Bizio. And after a few days when Ermal had to reluctantly return to his flat in Milan, he did it at least with a souvenir. On his fridge, next to shopping lists, magnets and postcards, there was now a drawing of a stick figure, with loopy curls, pointy nose and a ton of hearts hanging.

**Author's Note:**

> That was quite an experimental piece! I just wanted to explore the idea and well, here we are! Thanks for reading and please leave a comment! :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr: @bunny-banana


End file.
